artwork: Balazs Solti via https://pixelsmerch.com/
finally! my quest for love is over.
oh, i am so done slaving
for affection and approval.
my eyes, always looking up
in search of validation,
can rest, at last.
what a fucking relief.
what am i left with?
no worries, i’ve got
the constant.
the built in set of
racing (weary) mind and
hanging (hollow) soul.
scared baby with the head shaved
occasionally
she gets to step up the stage
begging for love
and acceptance
so i accept her
lovingly
i hold her in my mind
like i hold my little Oz
letting the words echo:
i am here
you are safe
artwork: gustav klimt, “mother and child”
my love language's a touch was forsaken for quite long isn't it like riding a bicycle too? muscle memory jumps right in my body remembers the warmth the breath the shiver the surrender
artwork: embrace by Gizem Özer via http://www.saatchiart.com
*artwork via mayhemandmuse.com
growing pains
chew me up
this time i’ll stare right back
today i’m ready to
embrace the sadness
it is mine.
it’s not me.
*artwork- via miscellaneoushi.com
Tiny seed of longing
Was planted in me when I was two.
I’ve never been asked for a permission
But nevertheless
I’ve taken care of it relentlessly
Fostering it into monstrosity
Letting it
Weave its branches into every supple cell of mine
To keep me buried under
An unrestrainable jungle of thoughts
To sentence me to an infinite
Trial
*artwork- by jiwoon pak via artparasites.com
| absurdistan. my being is ridiculous country. it’s easy: i merely want to be needed, important and irreplaceable. so that they won’t have a new girl, again. but, in the meantime, i am bored. in a common cardboard box, |
*artwork-“waiting for the sun” by cameron gray via fineartamerica.com
| “pattern”, it is called. her little personal drama. all of a sudden – a whirlpool, echoing voice of sticky old trauma. “don’t wait for me yet” |
*artwork- frustration by mehran roozbahni
| she says i’ve got to try to like this little girl and i wonder, what is the way? i wish i could friend her on facebook she says i’ve got to stop pushing her away, she says i should be empathetic… coward. i hide among all these names that barely have faces |
*artwork- view of the exhibition “Powerless Structures” at Tel Aviv Museum of Art
| what was i when was i one of these …imprisoned on white islands of metal solitude on each – imperfect youth so early broken, nearly left in it together so painfully alone. perverted arc,
|
*artwork- “anguish” by darren johnson via saatchiart.com
| between third cup of coffee and unimaginary anguish i try to escape from my own prison words echoing in my room said and unsaid as i walk around, lost in my own fortress not recognizing this space, i am a stranger to my own thoughts, so familiar, so i pushed out and away, me or you, ————————————- ————————————- |
on my way up 